Ain't no mountain high enough?

Every summer since 2009, my uncle, dad, brother and I go on a hike, and every summer I wonder why I let my family drag me up these godforsaken mountains.

My first trip was to the Wind River Range. The goal was to hike up Fremont Peak. I did not achieve that goal. Instead I got a minor case of altitude sickness and had to sit just below the peak with my dad while my uncle and brother finished the summit.

This was the same trip where my sleeping bag’s zipper broke which caused long, cold nights, and the cooker didn’t work very well so we ended up eating luke warm, crunchy potato soup for dinner. It was disgusting, to put it bluntly.

The next summer we went into the Mission Mountains in Montana. There were hardly any trails, so we ended up bush-whacking the entire trip. I distinctly remember approaching a steep slate of rock that seemed to stretch for miles and thinking, “this is where I die.” This was the first “Olivia’s Pissed Off Pass,” as my uncle so kindly named it. I was mad at everything and everyone for making me hike up this never-ending slate, but the rock did end and at the top of it was the most beautiful view I have ever seen in person. There were peaks surrounding a tall drop off into a glacial lake. Words really can’t describe it. I suppose it made the long trek up worth it.

We have also been in the Washakie Wilderness in the Absaroka Range in Montana, where it just couldn’t stop raining. Unlucky for me, my rain coat didn’t keep out a single drop. I was soaked, and therefore was once again pissed off.

When we got back to our camp, we found out that someone had left the tent open and our sleeping bags were soaked. That someone was me. We had to start a fire with wet wood and then had to hold our sleeping bags over the fire one by one until they were dry enough to sleep in. Whoops.

We also hiked Cloud Peak in the Big Horn Mountains where we had to climb boulders all the way up the peak. Once again, another pissed off pass, but this time I made it to the top of the peak. It was incredible to see what the mountains look like from there.

The next summer we went into the Beartooth Mountains where we intended on hiking Granite Peak but found out we needed another day to summit. This hike had so many boulders that I still flinch at the sight of one. I was pissed off for the majority of the first day. What made up for it was the mountain goats that hung around camp. They got so close to us that we could reach out and pet them.

We skipped last summer and picked up again this year. Last week I was in the Crazy Mountains in Montana. My brother couldn’t make it home from California which was unfortunate, but I actually enjoyed this hike a lot. It was challenging, but it was beautiful. We planned on hiking Crazy Peak but decided to stop just below the peak because the view was already breathtaking from where we stood.

Every year I ask myself why I keep going on these trips when all they seem to be is complicated, but it’s because of the adventure. Even with all the pissed off moments, these experiences are some of the greatest I have.

 

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